The Return of Tharn - BestLightNovel.com
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... Sadu, at sight of the rapidly awakening camp, halted his slow advance. For a moment he hesitated, his highly strung nerves twitching with indecision. And when several of the men dragged burning branches from the fires and threw them, like blazing spears, in his direction, he snarled uneasily and drew back. Already a few of the other lions had turned tail to flee back into the jungle. In another moment the retreat would become a rout and Sadu must seek elsewhere for food.
And then there occurred one of those unpredictable turns of fate which none can foresee. One of the blazing brands, propelled by a strong arm, struck full against the flank of a retreating lion. There followed a puff of smoke as hair burned away a wide patch and seared the skin beneath.
Sadu's uncertain temper blazed with the flame. With a startled roar that paled to nothing the surrounding chorus of growls, screams and curses, he wheeled about and bore down upon the camp, roaring as he came. A few feet short of the flaming stockade, Sadu rose in a mighty leap, cleared the flames easily, and landed squarely among the startled Sepharians.
Instantly pandemonium raged. The men scattered wildly from Sadu's flailing claws and glistening fangs, only to encounter other lions who, emboldened by the success of the first, had turned back to leap the barrier. Already a dozen of the tawny, sinuous bodies were sowing death among the ranks of Jotan's followers.
The princess Alurna huddled among a heap of furs and sought to close her eyes against the horrors of the growing ma.s.sacre. But not seeing at all was infinitely worse than reality, and so her eyes remained open and staring.
Suddenly a huge, yellow-maned monster bounded toward her. A lithe spring brought it atop a mound of supplies scarcely ten feet from where she lay paralyzed with fear. Slowly the lordly head swung in a menacing circle and the savage eyes fixed upon her shrinking form. The small ears twitched back until they lay tight against the sleek skull, the mammoth maw parted to disclose awesome fangs and a low growl rumbled low in the deep chest.
Jotan, shouting orders in an effort to rally his scattered men to some semblance of order, caught sight of the doomed princess as Sadu rose in his spring toward her. Careless of his own safety, he drew back his strong right arm and launched his heavy war spear. The keen blade flashed across the intervening s.p.a.ce and caught Sadu squarely in the chest, knocking him to one side and killing him instantly.
While all this was taking place, Dylara, daughter of Majok, had remained crouched close to one of the heaps of burning branches where she knew Sadu would be reluctant to approach. She saw man after man go down beneath the ravaging cats, and twice she saw lions leap back into the darkness, carrying the limp corpse of some unfortunate Ammadian. She witnessed, too, Jaton's rescue of the princess Alurna, and despite the awful carnage about her, she smiled grimly as Urim's daughter ran forward and threw her arms about the tall Ammadian n.o.ble.
At the moment it abruptly dawned on Dylara that this was her opportunity to escape from those who held her an unwilling captive. She turned her head and stared out into the open ground between camp and forest edge, seeing the long shadows cast by the flickering flames. If she could but cross that ribbon of gra.s.sland safely and gain the safety of the trees!
Even as she silently voiced the wish, her mind was made up for her. From behind one of the piles of supplies emerged a tawny shape. Two blazing eyes caught sight of the cave girl, and heedless of the nearby fire, the giant cat began to slink toward her.
Dylara, wise to the ways of the jungle, acted. Without a second's hesitation she whirled about and raced through a narrow break in the circle of fire, heading for the darkness beyond. Even as she acted, she knew this might be merely exchanging one peril for another: there could easily be ten lions between her and the safety of the trees.
With an earth-shaking roar, Sadu gave chase.
Her heart pounding wildly, Dylara shot across the open ground like an arrow from a bow. Behind her, gaining ground as though his frail quarry were standing still, came the lion, its jaws widely distended, low growls welling from its throat.
The low-spreading branches of a forest tree loomed ahead of the fleeing girl. Sadu was only a few feet behind her ... already he was launching the last leap that would crush the girl to earth just short of her goal.
In the camp itself, Jotan's bellowed commands were beginning to take effect on the disorganized warriors. Those still alive and unwounded managed to form a spear-bristling phalanx, standing shoulder to shoulder, while the blood-hungry cats moved slowly around them. Twice, a lion charged that square of flint spear-tips, only to fall back with roars of rage and bleeding from wounds. For a few minutes longer the beasts continued to circle warily about the men, now and then feinting charges in an effort to draw them into breaking ranks.
But the warriors, heartened by the confident bearing of their leader, held fast in spite of the fearful nearness of distended jaws and gleaming fangs.
At last, as though by some strange understanding, the lions began to withdraw, dragging with them some of the torn bodies of warriors who had died during the battle. Only the sharp commands of Jotan himself prevented the others from an attempt to save their fallen comrades from so horrible a fate--Jotan who was realist enough to know that any such foolhardy action--no matter how n.o.ble the purpose--could only result in further casualties.
When at last the lions were gone, Jotan set about restoring the broken defenses of the camp. Fires were increased in number and size, scattered supplies and weapons were rea.s.sembled and the wounded cared for.
Not until all this was done did Jotan learn of Dylara's disappearance.
At first he was nearly frantic with worry, picturing her as being dragged away by one of the marauders. It was not until he questioned the wounded that the true story came out.
"No, Sadu did not get her. Not in the camp anyway." The warrior, wincing from the pain of a long gash in one arm, pulled himself into a sitting position as he replied to Jotan's questions. "She was crouched down near the fires until one of the lions began to creep up on her. She wasted no time in doing something about that!"
"What _did_ she do?" Jotan demanded impatiently.
"The only thing she could have done: slipped through the fires and ran for the trees."
The young Ammadian n.o.ble glanced toward the Stygian gloom of the distant jungle and a faint shudder coursed through him. "What a mad thing to do!" he said, half to himself. "I would rather face Sadu here in the light than plunge into those shadows." To the wounded man he said, "Did you see her reach the trees?"
The other man shook his head. "My eyes are not that good. The lion chased her into the darkness and I lost sight of them both. She had a good start and she ran very swiftly."
"Which way did she go?"
The warrior waved an arm toward the south. Jotan picked four men who, carrying spears and torches, accompanied their leader in that direction.
They reached the fringe of trees and jungle to the south of the camp, and walked among the tree boles, calling out the cave girl's name. But only the voices of disturbed bird life and the distant scream of a panther answered their cries.
"Sadu must have gotten her after all," said one of the four.
"I don't believe it!" Jotan snapped. "She knows the jungle beasts too well for that to happen."
"Then why," asked another of the men, "does she not answer our calls?"
Jotan ignored the question. "Return to the camp," he said through a strange lump in his throat. "When morning comes, we will take up the search for her."
Alurna, still weak and shaken from her recent experience with Sadu, watched the five men enter the camp. She saw Jotan dismiss the others and come over to where she was seated between Tamar and Javan. When there was no sight of Dylara, and when she noticed Jotan's grim expression, her heart bounded with a wild and horrible hope.
"Well, Jotan?" Tamar said quietly.
His friend spread his hands in a helpless gesture. "There is no trace of her," he admitted, and in his voice was a note of such intense suffering that Tamar's heart went out to him.
Javan, blinked stolidly at the stricken man, put into words the unvoiced question of the others. "The lions...."
Jotan shook his head. "I don't believe they got her. There were no signs of a struggle. No ... bones." His voice faltered on that last word, and he threw his hands wide in sick bewilderment. "I don't know what to think!"
The princess Alurna spoke up suddenly in silken tones. "Have you forgotten so soon, O n.o.ble Jotan, the cave girl's own words?"
Jotan stared deep into the faintly mocking gray-green eyes of Urim's daughter. "What do you mean?" he said stiffly.
"Did she not say: 'I would escape and return to the caves of Majok, my father'? Did those words mean so little to you?"
Harsh lines deepened at the corners of Jotan's lips. "Yes, she said that. But she would not try to get away at night. Especially tonight, when there are the G.o.d knows how many lions roaming about the camp. The hardiest warrior would not dare that, let alone a frail girl."
"How long," Tamar broke in, "will you go on thinking of Dylara as a 'frail' girl? Can't you understand that she is not our kind of woman?
She does not fear the jungle: all that she needed was a chance to get into it without our seeing her, and tonight she was given that chance.
You have Sadu to thank for that."
For several long minutes Jotan sat there without speaking, his gaze fixed unseeingly on the leaping flames of the campfire. What strange currents and cross-currents, he mused, had been set into motion by his love for the girl of the caves. There was the steadily widening rift with Tamar--Tamar whose only flaw was his stiff-necked pride in lineage and n.o.ble blood--Tamar, who was his closest friend, his almost constant companion since boyhood. Together they had learned the arts of hunting and fighting, together they had served as fellow officers in Jaltor's armies, together they had crossed those interminable stretches of jungle, plain and mountain between Ammad and far-off Sephar. Could he afford to risk an almost certain break with Tamar by pursuing further his mad infatuation for the missing cave girl?
There was another complication, too--one leaving him open for repercussions even more unpleasant than the loss of a friend. There was no doubt in his mind but that the Princess Alurna was in love with him.
He knew that in the eyes of his family and friends she would make any man a mate to be proud of. From the standpoint of beauty alone she was almost as lovely as Dylara. More than that, however, Alurna was the niece of Jaltor, monarch of all Ammad and a personal friend of Jotan's own father. Jotan shuddered slightly. He could well imagine Jaltor's reaction upon learning that the daughter of his dead brother had been spurned in favor of a half-wild woman of the caves!
And then the lithe, softly curved body of Dylara came unbidden before his mind's eye ... and all else was forgotten. He rose stiffly from where he sat among his friends, conscious from their expressions that they knew he had arrived at a decision affecting them all.
"When the dawn comes," he said in a strangely toneless voice, "we break camp and continue on toward Ammad. Not all of us will go on, however. A few warriors shall accompany me in search of Dylara ... and I shall not return without her!"